


Enchanted

by thedevil_andgod



Series: Irresistible [1]
Category: Jurassic World (2015)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Infidelity, Jurassic World, Raptor Squad, Reader Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-16
Updated: 2016-07-10
Packaged: 2018-04-15 00:22:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4585860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedevil_andgod/pseuds/thedevil_andgod
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>your eyes whispered have we met? across the room your silhouette, starts to make it's way to me..</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. when i saw your face

**Author's Note:**

> So, I've had this idea in my head for the past few days and I just really needed to get it out! This is a short multi-chapter story, and once this is out of my system hopefully I can go back to writing and editing the last few chapters of TCWM.  
> I do not own Jurassic World, nor Chris Pratt or Omar Sy, unfortunately. 
> 
> More tags will be added as necessary.

Your entire body shakes with excitement as you pull up outside of the raptor paddock, in Jurassic World. Yes, Jurassic World. You'd been offered the opportunity to spend six weeks out on the island of Costa Rica, working alongside another trainer, gaining expertise and knowledge on the care and handling of dangerous creatures. As a lion tamer, for a local sanctuary back home, you already have an understanding of what it means to work so close with animals, especially the kind with sabre-sharp teeth and sword-like claws. However, this is going to be uncharted waters for you - and you simply can't wait. 

Hopping off your quad, you move towards the offices of the paddock, knocking lightly on the door. After waiting a few moments and receiving no answer, you lift your hand to knock again- but something catches your attention. The sound of laughter, deep, rolling like waves of thunder around the corner. Peering around the offices you see two men, one tall, dark skinned and grinning widely, the other also tall, tanned and holding his stomach as he laughed. You assume these two to be Owen and Barry, though you have no idea as to which was which. The darker of the two glances over, catching sight of you hovering at the edge of the scene. 'Hello!' He greets cheerfully, in a wonderful French accent that almost makes you swoon where you stand. The second man follows the first's line of sight, and grins at you. 'Hi..' You murmur, suddenly nervous. 'You must be the new girl. I'm Barry.' The French-man walks over and holds out his hand. His skin is rough but somehow smooth at the same time, his shake firm and light. 'Yes, I'm (Y/F/N)(Y/L/N).' You find your voice and thank Barry as he welcomes you to the park. The other man, obviously Owen watches you from over Barry's shoulder. He's tall and broad, with thick muscles and striking green eyes that move up and down your body. Seeing as it is Central America, it's very hot, so you're wearing a light grey tank top with denim shorts, and his once-over makes you slightly self-conscious.  
'Owen Grady. Pleased to meet you, Miss (Y/L/N).' He holds out his hand and you take it, marvelling at the warmth of his skin. His palms are calloused, the sensation of the rough skin against yours, soft and smooth, has a shiver running up your spine. 'Oh, it's just (Y/N).' You correct him, drawing your hand back and hoping the blush on your cheeks can be passed off with an excuse about the heat. 'Well, (Y/N), are you ready to meet the girls?'  
You quirk an eyebrow, a grin unfurling across your lips. 'The raptors? Hell yeah.'  
Barry chuckles, slapping Owen on the shoulder in a friendly gesture of affection. 'What are we waiting for, then?' He sets off towards the safety pen, and Owen stands next to you, looking down at you. His eyes are focused on you and he offers a little wave of his hand, signalling for you to go first. 'After you.' Following Barry, you feel Owen's presence close behind you, and try to ignore the heat pooling low in your belly at the thought of his warm skin and hot breath.  
\--  
'This is Echo. She's the shyer of the four, and the youngest.' Owen reaches through the bars on the cage to slowly run his large hand down the raptor's snout. She chitters happily and nuzzles against his palm. You watch the pure and content smile on the wrangler's face as he watches his girls, and feel your respect for the man growing high. 'Then there's Charlie-' He points to another raptor, lying in the sun. 'Lazy little shit.' He murmurs fondly. 'And Delta.' Delta lies next to Charlie, both of them seeming to enjoy lazing about in the heat. As Echo trots off towards the foliage, a blue-scaled raptor pads closer, head tilted to the side as her eyes focus solely on you. It makes the breath catch in your throat; would she like you? Or not? She was stunning- they all were, beautiful, magnificent creatures that took your breath away. 'And this here is Blue. She's the beta.' Owen informs you. Not wanting to break the eye contact with Blue, you ask a question.  
'Who's the Alpha?'  
A few seconds pass in silence, and you feel that burning gaze on the side of your face once more. Turning your head to glance at Owen, the serious look on his face takes you aback.  
'You're looking at him.' You swallow, hard, denying to yourself that that may have been the hottest thing you've ever heard in your entire life.  
Turning back to the cage, you have to stifle a surprised yell when you find yourself nose to nose – or nose to snout – with a curious raptor. Blue's tail is high, and her head leans to one side as she shuffles closer, her muzzle almost poking through the bars. 'Hey.' Owen grabs her attention with a single syllable, laced through with authority. 'Back up, Blue.' She chitters in annoyance, but when he gives her a stern glare she does as she's told, never moving her own eyes off of you.  
'Go on.' Owen instructs, his Alpha voice deep and smooth. You find yourself overwhelmed; the fascination of the dinosaurs coupled with Owen's strangely magnetic has your brain working overtime, in frantic efforts as it tries to remember how to function like a normal human being.  
Blue runs off after Echo, you watch her retreating figure as it disappears behind thick, lush leaves. The other two raptors don't move a muscle; more interested in enjoying the sun than inspecting the fresh meat. God, there's a saying that suddenly has a totally different meaning. 

'I think she likes you.' Owen breaks your reverie, yanking you back to the present moment with a jolt. Smiling, you bite your lip a little nervously. 'Yeah?'  
Meeting his gaze again, he nods seriously. 'Yeah.' He breathes out, before inviting you into the office to give you a run down on the jobs you'd be doing for the first couple of days.  
_'Pull yourself together, (Y/N),'_ You think to yourself sternly. _'You're not here to drool over the very attractive raptor trainer. Anyway- why are you looking at him? You're taken, remember?'_ Instinctively, you glance down at your left hand, which seems startling bare without the diamond ring sparkling on your finger. Inhaling deeply to steady yourself, you focus your mind on the work, before following Owen to the office, determined to not let him distract you from anything.


	2. i'm wonderstruck (blushing all the way home)

Working with Owen is a lot harder than you had anticipated. Oh, it's brilliant - you love the raptors, you've even formed a sort-of bond with Echo. She's the shyest and quietest, and likes to curl up on the other side of the cage when you sit in the safety pen for lunch. But the feelings that Owen stirs up inside of you, you could swear that they were killing you. 

It doesn't help that you've managed to form a sort-of bond with the raptor trainer as well, finding yourself chilling out at his place more often than not. Most nights you just hang, and watch Marvel films with pizza and a few beers, curled up on the old, sagging couch in his bungalow. You know you should be staying away; but you can't, and if you're being honest, you don't want to. He's got this aura about him, this magnetic pull. During the day you both seem to gravitate around the other, you behind him while he runs through the drill, him leaning against the door of the offices as you feed Echo snacks from your lunch (not-so-discreetly, but he doesn't mind). 

After two weeks, you'd almost say you've fallen head over heels for Owen- but you have to remind yourself that you're _engaged_. You're already taken, you're getting married in six weeks - every night, you call your fiancé. The sound of his lovely, familiar voice sends waves of comfort over you - and also, waves of gnawing guilt. Why you feel guilty, you don't know.. You haven't done anything wrong. It's not like you've been unfaithful. Although you can't lie, the temptation is there and it only grows stronger. Every night you and Owen spend together, laughing and passing off lingering touches as 'accidental' brushes of the hands as you both reach for some pizza or popcorn at the same time. Every time you find yourself staring at him, when he has his sleeves rolled up, emphasising the thick bands of muscle under his tanned skin. Every time you find _him_ staring at _you_ , with a kind of awed look in his eyes, the temptation grows. There's an undeniable tension hanging in the air between you both. Right now, it's only a matter of who will be the first to break it.   
\--

At the start of your third week, something happens that changes everything completely. It's your own fault, really. Owen has told you countless times to stand a little bit further from the edge of the walkway over the paddock. You're smiling down as Charlie chases Echo, Owen yelling at Blue to stop hurting Delta with her tail. The sun is warm on your face and you're content, more so than you've ever felt. Owen is next to you, practically radiating sex appeal and lust. Barry calls him down to talk about possible changes to the raptor's routine drill, and seeing as it's a slow hour there's no one hanging around except the three of you. 

Crouching down, you hold onto the edge of the railing lightly. The way the raptors interact with each other fascinates you endlessly, and all you want is a closer look at the way their social skills are developing. As it turns out, you look a little bit too close, something you don't realise until it's too late. You just about hold back a screech of surprise as you feel your body toppling; that stomach-swooping sensation of falling, coupled with the shock of hitting the ground full force knocks the air from your lungs. You're flat on your back, and when you sit up, you're almost certain that a little bit of pee comes up when you find yourself surrounded by four hungry dinosaurs. 

'(Y/N)!' Owen's voice hits the air like a strike of lightening, panicked and breathless. You hear him arguing with Barry; Owen wants the Frenchman to open the door, which Barry is not happy about. Inhaling deeply, you lock eyes with Echo, and begin to speak. 

'Hello, Echo. Good girl. You're not going to hurt me, right? You're a good girl. Good girl.' You feel like she's staring right down into your soul through your bright (e/c) eyes. The sound of the gate rising, creaking loudly, snags your attention. On reflex, you break the eye contact, and are rewarded with a harsh snarl from all four raptors. Snapping your head back, your hands start to shake on the dusty ground. Fear swallows you whole, but you do your best to stamp it down. They can smell fear, and they don't like it. Owen's presence burns behind you, and it's like a safety net- a blanket falling over you, swaddling you in relief. 'Alright, back up. Back. Up.'

Charlie lowers her head and growls, turning to her trainer. 'Hey! Don't give me that shit, Charlie.' Owen snaps, and you hear his feet coming closer, slowly. The four raptors tighten their circle around you, and you gasp in fright. 'It's okay, (Y/N). Don't be afraid. I'm not going to let anything happen to you. I promise.' He whispers to you, in a low, husky voice.  
Blue and Delta shoot forward, and you can't help yourself- your hands fly to your head, instinctively covering it for protection. 

'HEY! I SAID BACK. UP.' There's a soft clicking noise, Owen is using the clicker, the noise the raptors have associated with him from birth. Then, there's a puff of heated breath curling around your ear, and a snout nudging your neck. 

'Blue?' Owen sounds confused, and it's almost cute. You move your arms back down, slowly, looking to the raptor by your side. She's nosing against your shoulder, seemly trying to push you over - towards Owen? 

You hear him taking a short, sharp inhale, and when he talks again his voice is lower, calmer. '(Y/N), stand up.' He still speaks in his alpha voice - Christ, it's hot as fuck and you _really should NOT be thinking about that RIGHT NOW_ \- and you do as he says. Your knees shake as they try to support your body, and then Delta chitters, sounding pleased. 'Now, move back to stand next to me- stay facing them. I'll guide you when you get close enough.' With stuttering breaths, you begin to walk backwards, slowly, the raptors following your every step, almost expectantly. When Owen wraps his hand around your elbow, pulling you to his side, your breathing gets worse- only for the fact that his bare skin against yours sets off every nerve ending in your body (and again, now is _NOT THE TIME_ you scold yourself, silently.) Once Owen has a hold on you, the girls fall back, growling in what seems to be approval. 

'Fuck.' Owen whispers, his brows shooting up to his hairline. You're hyper-aware of the fact his fingers are still curled into the crook of your elbow, and you stutter when you speak. 'W- what?' Owen glances down at you, with a smug grin on his plush lips, a darkened glint in his striking eyes. 'They think I'm your Alpha.' 

You almost choke on your own spit. 'They- they- _what?_ '. Owen smirks, and drops your elbow, only to loop his arm around your waist. 'Don't question it; it just saved your life.' He murmurs in your ear, lips just-about brushing the shell. You know he can feel the shiver running down your spine as you tense against his side. Leading you both out of the cage, his arm lingers around your hips for a few moments longer than is really necessary. Barry is watching the two of you with a curious look, head tilted slightly to the side. 'Well.' Owen booms, stepping back. 'I hope that's taught you your lesson- listen to the Alpha from now on.' He winks, before striding into his office. Leaving you, still breathless, cheeks flushing and with a very entertained Barry for company. He chuckles as he shakes his head. 'Oh, no. You're screwed, aren't you?'   
Groaning, you turn back towards the cage, burying your hot face into your hands.   
'Please just.. Don't.'   
\--  
Later, you stand in the safety pen, stroking Blue's leathery snout. She stares up at you through wide eyes, and you turn my head to look at Owen, barely visible behind the half-open door leading into his office. He's sitting at the desk, head low as he reviews paperwork and jots down notes here and there. Looking back to Blue, you sigh, as she makes a low humming noise from the back of her throat. She seems to be trying to tell you something, nuzzling her nose against your palm. 'So you think Owen's my Alpha, huh?' You sigh, thinking back to the past couple of weeks you've spent with the man. The way your skin tingles whenever his bare arm brushes against yours whilst leaning against the railing. The way his low, authoritative voice had heat pooling low in your belly, in a way no one else ever has before. Not even your fiancée..   
Sighing again, you pat the tip of Blue's snout.   
'Maybe you know something I don't, girl.' You murmur, sucking in your bottom lip. As you turn away, Owen appears through the door, approaching you with a grin. 'Well, I'm almost finished up here. Pizza and a movie tonight?'   
He grins, but there's a nervous wobble under the confidence that pulls at your heart. 'Wouldn't miss it.' 

On the drive back to the hotel, you can't seem to shake the feeling that everything has changed between you both- that tonight, something might just be different, in one way or another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all who's reading this, sending me lovely feedback and pressing the kudos button- it brightens my day no end! 
> 
> You're all awesome and hope you enjoy this x


	3. this night is sparkling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> slight NSFW.

As you approach the small cabin at the edge of the island, your heart begins to beat erratically. Steeling yourself, you knock lightly on the front door. After a few moments wait, it swings open, to reveal a grinning Owen - and a faint scent of burning. You sniff. He blushes a little. 'Uh.. how about you don't ask?' He tries, a cheeky grin on his lips. You roll your eyes, pushing past him - ignoring the hitch in his breath as you make contact - and survey the damage in his kitchenette. Several pots and pans lie in the sink, swirls of steam spiraling upwards, various ingredients spilled out across the counter and a cookbook tipped on its side is hovering precariously on the edge of the counter. You turn back to Owen, who is scratching his neck nonchalantly. You ignore the straining muscles in his arm as the movement flexes them - and raise a questioning eyebrow. 'What was this about?' He shrugs, bites his lip, looking at the ground. 'Well, uh.. You've been a really great assistant and, well, you got a bit of a fright today..' he trails off. You see his eyes flickering to the shiny gem on your left hand, before he looks away, and something like pain strikes you in the chest. '..And, you've just been a really great help around the paddock. A great, uh, friend.' He finishes, and you try not to wince at how lame the word 'friend' comes out.

'Thank you, Owen. I appreciate the attempt at a nice dinner. But.. Pizza?' For some reason, clasping your hands together behind your back puts you at ease. A little tension seems to drain from Owen's shoulders once the ring is out of sight, and he smiles. 'I have some in the freezer.' 'I can clean this up, if you like..' You offer, sidling towards the sink. 'No, no, no way, you are my guest, you had a traumatic day, and you are under official orders to do nothing but relax tonight.' He tells you firmly, taking your wrist and tugging you toward the couch. His hands are warm and calloused, and as you flop onto the sagging couch, your eyes narrow, arms folding over your chest. You look up at him. brows raised. 'Official orders?' You challenge, and his eyes darken, just a little. 'Yes.' He smirks, and you can't help the choked noise that escapes as you try to remember how to breathe. Concern flickers across his features; 'Are you okay?' you nod vigorously. 'Throats just a little dry,' you make your excuse hurriedly, averting your gaze.

'I'll grab a couple beers, clear up around here, and stick the pizza in - then we can chill.'  
'Sounds good.'

He grins, and moves back to the kitchen. You watch him as he tidies up, soaking the blackened pans and leaving them to dry on the draining board, giving the oven a quick wipe down. For a moment, you allow yourself to imagine having this for the rest of your life - coming home to dinner disasters, laughing together, relaxing on the couch with takeout and beer and cuddles.. Your eyes are suddenly burning and you hold back the tears until he disappears into the utility room and you hear the freezer being opened. A few drops fall down your cheeks as your look down at the ring, twisting it around and around and thinking of your fiance. You picture his smile, his arms around your waist, his lips against yours.. A sickeningly heavy and tight knot loops itself together in your chest, squeezing painfully. You don't even notice Owen's return until he speaks; and you jump.

'Missing him?' He murmurs quietly, nodding to the ring. He has two bottles hanging from one hand, a frozen goods box tucked under his arms. His eyes are sad, and you wipe the tears away. 'A little bit.' you whisper, shrugging. He retreats to the kitchen; the oven door opens and shuts and you hear the familiar hiss of caps being cracked off glass. He presses the bottle into your hand, his fingers brushing your knuckles, lingering a little longer than is necessary. You nod gratefully, taking a sip and sighing as the bitter liquid soothes your anxiety almost instantly. He settles on the couch next to you, a careful, measured distance between your bodies. 'So, how did you two meet?' He pulls off the conversational tone perfectly; he is as good you can be at masking emotions. You breathe out heavily, turning the cool bottle in your hand. 'Uh, work, actually. He came to the tiger sanctuary with his family for a holiday two years ago. I was their guide, and uh.. His parents took a shining to me, saying how polite I was, well mannered. They asked me to join them for dinner, and afterwards, myself and Tom went for a drink..' You shake your head. 'The rest is history. That was two years ago, and we've been together ever since.' You take another gulp, and wait for Owen's response. 'You love him?' You stare down the neck of the bottle. 'Would I be marrying him if I didn't?' Is the rebuff, and the responding silence is tense and heavy. From the corner of your eye, you see Owen's profile, the curve of his nose, the strong outline of his jaw. He's looking down, nodding slowly, more to himself than to you. 'Well. I hope it works out for you both.' Both of you ignore how flat the wish is, but you thank him. You sit in silence until a ding tells Owen the pizza is finished. He sets down his empty bottle on the coffee table. 'I'm gonna.. the pizza.' He says, voice rough, moving from the couch. He asks if you'd like another beer; downing the last mouthful, you nod. He returns with two plates, handing you one. The plate heats up quickly, leaking warmth onto your lap. He clicks on the TV, and the unanimous decision is to watch Deadpool, a nice, tension relieving comedy.

You giggle through mouthfuls of food and at one point, snort so hard in amusement that beer shoots out of your nose. The burning sensation brings tears to your eyes and you cough a little; Owen wipes his mouth with his sleeve and pats you gently on the back, laughing hard. Half at the film, half at you. 'Oh, god!' You exclaim, making a face as you wait for the burn to subside. 'Oh, god, that was gross.' You sniff in disgust, accidentally causing more droplets to go up your nose, sending you into another coughing fit. Owen laughs harder; You wheeze out a 'Fuck you!' which doesn't help either of you. 'Two near-death experiences in one day, (Y/N). You don't do things half-ways, do you?' Raising your hands up the air, you smirk. 'Go big or go home.' You quip, and Owen bumps his shoulder against yours. You shove at him halfheartedly, and he retaliates by poking at your side. You shriek, leaning back immediately. 'Oi!' You hold up a finger warningly. 'Do not.' A mischievous expression falls across his face, and you shake my head. 'Little bit ticklish, huh?' He teases, wiggling his fingers against the thin fabric of your shirt again. You laugh, unable to restrain yourself, kicking away from him, yelling that you 'will not be held responsible for my actions, Grady!' He just smiles wider and throws himself down over you, pinning you easily with one hand, scrabbling fingers finding their way along your neck, underarms, down your sides. You shriek and squirm and do your best to escape - but he easily has another 100lbs on you in muscle alone. Your cheeks flush, eyes screwing up as you beg him to stop the torture. He slows and leaves his hand pressed to your side.

You inch open one eyelid, and then the other, taken aback at the sudden proximity of his face to your own. He has a smug smile on his face, and oh, you just want to lean up and kiss it away.. You feel his breath on my face, can count each and every long eyelash framing his dark green eyes, searching yours intently; softer than the shit-eating grin on his lips.. His soft, plump lips.. Almost instantly, your tongue darts out to wet your own lips, and you note how Owen follows the movement, grin falling away. He shifts around above you - the film is paused and the sudden silence is deafening. Neither of you move, reluctant to break the moment. His eyes are so mesmerising, different shades of green darkening into a sort-of brown around the pupil.. Like mosswater, but prettier. Bad analogy, you guess. His chest presses down on yours momentarily as he heaves a breath, and leans his head down further. You stop him when your lips are a hairs breadth apart. Whisper, 'I'm getting married,' in a pained tone that resonates around the room, seeming to echo in every corner. His eyelids flutter shut, and he nods. 'I know.' He breathes. 'We can stop.' He assures you, never opening his eyes. You know you should. Stop, I mean. We should stop - no, I should stop, you think desperately. He is single, but I am engaged.. Engaged to a man who feels more like a stranger than anything else, a man who is nothing more than a distant, crackly voice on a tinny phone line. If you were so in love with him, you wouldn't be tempted by Owen.. right? Before you can second-guess yourself, you are pulling the ring off of your finger. Leaning out from under his body, you let it fall from your hand, dropping to the coffee table, with a clink.

You lean back, and Owen's eyes are open now, hopeful, bright. You nod, and he seems to know what you mean by the action. Slowly, too slowly, he bows his head, until his lips are against yours, soft, yet insistent. You return the pressure, encouraging him, letting him know that it's okay. That you want this, just as much as he does. One hand comes up to cup your face, thumb brushing your cheek, light as a feather. It elicits a full-body shiveer, and he kisses harder, working your mouth open with his tongue, warm and pliant. As soon as your mouth does fall open, it's like holding a lit match to a short fuse on a tonne of TNT - Owen lets out a guttural moan, finding your lower lip with his teeth, nipping it gently, rocking his hips against yours. Your body arches up almost instantly, one leg wrapping around his waist. You almost let out a disappointed whine as he breaks the kiss and leans back; pupils blown wide, lips swollen and blush-pink, face flushed heavily. The Alpha voice from earlier returns. 'My room. Now.' Your brain is still trying to rewire itself after that kiss, and it takes a moment to register his words. A moment too long, it would seem. Pulling you up by both wrists, he holds you close and repeats his demand. 'I said my room, now.' His voice is lower, but no less authoritative. In a daze, you nod. He pauses, to kiss you, chastely, gently, for a second. Then, he turns you around roughly, guiding you to his room by your shoulders. You leave the sitting room without looking back, without a second thought for the ring laying alone and abandoned, sparkling in the late evening light, on the coffee table.


	4. don't you let it go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last few weeks of your placement pass in a blissful haze; all too soon, however, you remember how close your reality suddenly is, and learn the hard way, that all good things come to an end.

For the next week and a half, a feeling of complete and utter happiness settled over you. After that night with Owen, it's like you have immediately fallen into a relationship. Date nights, hand holding, late-night rides on his motorcycle. The kisses, the lighthearted banter, the nights spent cuddled together watching shitty films and getting to know each other properly. You've taken to leaving the ring off at all times these days - you make the excuse that it is safer to keep it in the hotel, as it could easily get lost. The truth is that every time you look at it another knife of guilt twists in your gut; it's the reminder of your betrayal, of the people you were hurting with your actions. Of course, they'd only hurt if those people found out...

The day your placement finished was drawing closer. You have a decision to make. You can stay, here on the island, with Owen. Find yourself a permanent job and settle down, let yourself love him, let him love you. Work with the raptors, go for Friday night drinks with Barry and Ms. Dearing. Go home to your raptor trainer, every night.. and break your fiance's heart, shock two families and leave them to deal with the ruins of a wedding left behind. The other option is to simply pack up and leave the day you are booked to go; End things with Owen, push the memories into a box in the back of your head and fly back to the mainland, and be the good, well-mannered girl you were supposed to be. Wear your fancy, spotless white shoes (something new), your mothers vintage wedding dress (something old), your sisters diamond crusted hair combs (something borrowed), and the fancy lingerie you and your maid of honor had gone shopping for, months upon months ago (something blue). 

Stay or go. Owen or Tom. Love or.. or what? You still care for Tom, but do you love him? With your marriage to him approaching fast, you know your doubts should be long gone. But could you destroy his heart that way? Destroy your parents expectations? And, for what? For who? A guy you only met four damn weeks ago. The conflict tears you apart; on the nights you stay in your room instead of going home with Owen, you lie awake until the morning sun comes in through the chink in the curtains. You stare at the ceiling, turning over every possibility in your head, wave after wave of nauseous guilt setting you adrift and lost in your conscience.

The last day arrives; far too soon. Barry greets you cheerfully as you arrive at the enclosure. You collect your paperwork from Owen's office - the worksheets you had to fill out, tracking your progress with the raptors. You're proud of yourself; the four dino's had become quite trustful of you. You fed them, helped strap them into their muzzles for vetinary checkups, watched them curl up on the ground and fall asleep in the dry heat of the night. 

Now, you watch them playfully snapping at one another, chasing their tails. A soft smile is present on your lips. You're so engrossed with the four reptiles you don't notice Owen's presence until he leans down and kisses that soft smile, which only grows as you meet his eyes. His face is lifted happily, barely-noticable crinkles at the edge of his dark green eyes, sparkling in the sun. 'Penny for your thoughts?' 

You glance away; your thoughts had been focused on whether or not to leave tonight, or to stay. It's not something you want to discuss with your illicit lover, not right now. You shrug. 'Just admiring the girls.' You say lightly, it's not a lie, not really. 

Owen nods. 'They've grown to like you, over the past six weeks.' There's a pause before he adds on, 'They're not the only ones.' Cheeks flushing, you press a hand to your belly as though to quell the sudden rush of butterflies flickering within. He grins widely, and pushes your hair from your face. He ducks his head to steal another kiss - although is it really stolen if you give it to him so willingly? - before heading off to start getting the girls ready for the day. You watch his back as he retreats, a tightening in your throat.   
\--

You and Barry are left to close up for the day, Owen called in for a meeting with Ms. Dearing and other park officials. You work in a companionable silence, until you're both standing by your respective vehicles, not quite sure what to say. 

'So. Today was the last day.'   
You nod. 'Yeah.'   
'Your flight is tomorrow..?'   
'Tonight.'  
'Oh.'   
'Yeah..' 

Silence again, this time as heavy as the humid heat. 'Well..' Barry glances around, unable to look you in the eye. It hurts, just a little. 'It won't be the same without you.'   
His words are so sincere it hurts even more. You fight to swallow a lump in your throat.   
'I - I'll miss you.' The words are barely more than a whisper, (y/e/c) eyes burning as tears build up behind them. Barry reaches for your shoulder, gives it a gentle, friendly squeeze. He climbs aboard his quad and then, he's gone. Momentarily, you look back toward the empty paddock; the girls somewhere in the brush, sleeping off a long day of play. A few errant tears spill out. Instead of wiping them away, you simply mouth a single word in the direction of the paddock, before turning and heading for your car, with a heavy heart. 

_'Goodbye.'_


	5. please don't be in love with someone else

The tiny, half-empty airport seems too quiet as you haul your suitcase across the linoleum floor. It's almost as heavy as the weight of your guilt. Having left without speaking to Owen, you'd left a note, short and sweet. 

_It's better off this way. I have to go home.. Thank you for everything._

You'd pinned it to his front door, thankful to have reached the cabin before he returned from the meeting. In your pocket, your phone was off - it felt like it was burning a hole through your cutoffs, you wonder if he'd found the note yet, if he was calling, if he wanted to try and change your mind..

Pulling your attention to the board lit up with the last of tonight's flights out, your eyes searched until you found yours. Due to leave in less than an hour, it was time to go through security - you dragged your feet slowly, knowing that as soon you passed the electric turnpike, there really would be no going back. 

Reaching the back of the short queue, a voice from somewhere behind you calls your name. The voice is one you'll never forget, like a bullet through your spine as it reaches your eyes. Turning on your heels, you see him; hair sticking up at odd angles, blue vest half hanging off his arms. The breath catches in your throat; he's here. He's here, and he shouldn't be, but somehow you're walking towards him until you're face to face once more.

'You can't go.' He begs, eyes glistening with  
unshed tears. Seeing him this open, this upset - it breaks your already fractured heart into a thousand sharp pieces. Swallowing a lump in your throat, you look away, unable to speak while keeping eye contact.  
'It's how this has to be, Owen.'  
'No, it isn't!'  
'I have a fiancé to get back to, Owen. I have a family, and a wedding. My parents - they're waiting at the other side of the world to see me walking through those gates.'  
'You don't love him.' Owen sounds so sure, not in a cocky way, but in the sense that he knows he loves you and is sure that the feeling is returned. It is; but now, it's time to pretend it's not true. 

'I do.' You say, and can tell by the set of his lips when that he doesn't believe you.  
'I was confused. You're a really great guy-' you start, but get cut off as Owen reaches out, placing both hands onto your waist. Your heart skips a beat, as you feel the heat of his palms burning through your skimpy tee shirt.  
'Don't even start that confusion bullshit.' He snarls, pressing his forehead to yours. He gazes into your eyes, intense and steely. 'You love me, (Y/N). I know you do. You're just going back there because you don't want to break his heart. But by leaving me here, you're going to break mine.' He whispers, in a pained tone that brings more tears to the surface. Blinking hard, you shake your head.  
'No. No, Owen. I care about you- but not in that way.'  
Owen growls and tightens his grip on you. You know he knows you're lying; but you can't bring yourself to stay here. Even so, you linger in his hold for another few moments, breathing in his scent; motorbike oil, grass and another smell- something so musky and addictive, that is one hundred percent Owen. Breathing out a sigh, you inch backwards, but he pulls you closer, brushing his lips over your forehead. The action almost brings you to your knees, and you start shoving him away more fiercely. 'Owen. Let me go.' You ask, calmly but with a steely undertone to your voice. He does so reluctantly; and you step away. 'Stay.' He whispers, one last plea. You want to- fuck, you want to stay. So badly. But see - that's the difference. You want to stay, but you need to go. There's something pulling you back to your home, stronger than what's holding you here. He takes a step forward, hands cupping your face gently. He presses his lips against yours, soft but insistent. You melt almost instantly, against his chest, your arms finding their way around his neck. He pours everything in this kiss- everything he has, in the hopes that it will be enough. But all too soon, you're pulling away before he can taste the tears that have begun to slide down your cheeks. 'Goodbye, Owen.' 

You turn and run, and he stands alone. Arms empty, feeling cold. You run and you don't look back, because if you do, you're scared it will break you completely. 

\--

With your face pressed against the window of the plane, and earbuds planted firmly in you, you closed your eyes and let the music whisk you away. On your left hand, your engagement ring glistens, feels as heavy as an anchor. You erase the taste of Owen from your lips with sips of whiskey, barely noticing the burn in your throat from the alcohol.

**Author's Note:**

> Title & summary from enchanted // taylor swift .


End file.
